Miniature Tension Breaks
by Stephane Richer
Summary: He walks away through the rain and he's still like a zombie, going through the motions.


Miniature Tension Breaks

Disclaimer: Don't own.

* * *

Midorima Shintarou is nothing if not a creature of habit. He has been this way for as long as Atsushi has known him, which is a little more than half of his life—not that that's relevant. He was probably born strictly according to procedure, walking and talking exactly on schedule, and regardless of how long Atsushi knows him he will continue to stick to routines and fulfill (if not exceed) every expectation. He is also very fun to tease, something Atsushi found out by accident and filed away for future reference, though he didn't end up using it for quite a few years.

Every day Shintarou stops by the Justice Bakery on his lunch break, and every day he buys one sesame mochi. If Atsushi's not the cashier (which he almost never is, considering his abysmal customer service skills versus his superior baking skills) he'll poke his head out of the kitchen at precisely 12:38 and announce that he's going on his break. He then proceeds to pull Shintarou into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, kiss him senseless, and feed him the mochi. Shintarou always glances around for other people, completely self-conscious. Still, sometimes he doesn't notice the streaks of flour on Atsushi's hands that make their way onto the skin of his cheeks and jaw where Atsushi cups his face and he looks so irresistibly cute. Then, of course, Atsushi has to poke his cheek until he scowls and mutters some lame excuse about how he only came here to get his sesame mochi and not to see Atsushi and that he really should get going because he's still a first-year doctor and he needs to be on time for everything (it's weird how worried he is about punctuality, considering that he's probably never been late to anything in his life). Atsushi steals a few more quick kisses and walks him to the door of the bakery, watches him walk away and smirks at the white, floury handprint on his thigh that has apparently remained unnoticed, even as Shintarou tried to dust himself off and fix his hair.

Still, that's as much time as they get together all day. Even after the shop closes, Atsushi has to stay and help figure out the supply orders for the upcoming months and has immense trouble focusing because he's so hungry (even with the employee discount, the food is expensive here and Atsushi really doesn't get why people buy it when it costs so much—he knows it's good; he made it, after all, but they could still turn a tidy profit if they sold everything at 30% off the prices now). It takes too long, and by the time he gets home he's feeling too lazy to cook so he just orders a pizza and devours the whole thing. He doesn't really feel like showering so he just takes off his jeans and throws them in the corner before falling into bed (it doesn't occur to him that he hasn't had his mid-afternoon coffee and that might be somehow related to this exhaustion). He's a fairly light sleeper most of the time, but in the morning he doesn't remember how or when he ended up in Shintarou's arms with the windows all open all the way and the covers kicked off. The radio alarm clock is growing louder as the early-morning host talks about the weather and airport delays. Atsushi pushes himself up to locate the snooze button, and falls out of Shintarou's grip. He's squinting his green eyes in the half-light, hair looking wonderfully messy. Atsushi clicks the reset button and then kisses Shintarou, taking full advantage of his lover's bad eyesight but wincing at his morning breath.

Shintarou pulls away and puts on his glasses, sitting up and stretching. He gets up and walks off to the bathroom, and that's the last Atsushi sees of him that morning, for he returns to the welcome arms of sleep for another hour.

* * *

Today, Shintarou breaks his strict habit of only buying mochi and shells out the extra 700 yen for a red eye. He looks like he needs it; even though his hair has been gelled into submission it's doing its best to fight and a few strands have broken free. His eyes are encased in dark circles so much that he almost looks like an angry green panda, and his posture is ever-so-slightly slumped. Atsushi clocks out and sits him down at a table outside. It's been drizzling all day, so most of the customers prefer to stay inside, although the awning keeps the water out of the small enclosed area. He has to be really out of it if he's not making his usual protests about how he'll decide where he's going, thank you very much. He turns the coffee cup in his hands, wrist motions as smooth and precise as one would expect a surgeon's movements to be, making the three cubes of sugar dissolve and mix faster. He feeds Atsushi a bite of the mochi, ducking his head slightly and blushing as he does it, refusing to look Atsushi in the eye.

He walks away through the rain and he's still like a zombie, going through the motions.

Atsushi's been tired lately, sure, but Shintarou's been even more tired from working longer hours, so it's only reasonable that Atsushi should do something to help him relax, especially since he's always so tightly-wound. For some reason (or perhaps no reason at all) he's always on edge, paranoid, ready to lash out. It must be quite tiring to just be him and do everyday things. Atsushi ruminates on this subject a lot, and he can't really settle on a definitive answer. He supposes some of that tension has rubbed off on him, at least in the kitchen—he's become more precise with his recipes as he's refined them, though it's not down to the last grain of sugar or anything like that. But still, even if Shintarou has absorbed some of his relaxation (and he has; on his off days he likes to lie on the couch and read the paper and if Atsushi's there sometimes he'll let him play with his hair) it's not nearly enough, and all the natural relaxation in the world is irrelevant when someone's working as much as Shintarou has these past few weeks.

When he gets home, he looks even worse, taking off his coat and just leaving it haphazardly over the back of the chair and heading toward the bedroom with barely a nod to Atsushi. Atsushi was going to draw him a bath or reheat dinner for him, but clearly neither of those are options right now, so he trails after him uselessly.

Shintarou sits on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress and slumping his shoulders while fumbling with his tie. His glasses are slightly askew and his eyes are half-closed. Atsushi gently places his own fingers on the knot and tries to slip them through to untie the tie, but Shintarou has tied it in a ridiculously tight knot and Atsushi's fingers are large and way too clunky. Nevertheless, Shintarou's hands drop to his sides. Atsushi sighs, trying his pinky, finally jamming it through the knot in the fabric but almost snapping Shintarou's neck forward. Even with him, Atsushi finds it hard to be gentle. The tie is the only hard part about Shintarou's outfit, and there's something about the cold night air and Atsushi's warm touch on his skin that makes Shintarou tense up a bit again and do his own pants, socks, and shoes and find his own pajamas. They'd been dating each other how many years again?

Still, the faint flush on his cheeks and the way he peers out at Atsushi through his long lashes is still…it's still something. Atsushi can't quite give it a name now, and things like that aren't really important. Shintarou is still sitting at the edge of the bed, unwilling to lie down just yet. He takes his glasses off and puts them on the nightstand. Atsushi sits beside him, rubbing his shoulders. He's still tense, and while Atsushi doesn't know very much about massage therapy (one of his older brothers thought it was funny to give him a "back massage" that left him with a black and blue back for almost a month when he was seven, and that's basically been the extent of it) he can feel the giant knots of pressure that have been building up in Shintarou's upper back. He kneads the skin, pulling and pushing at it to try and loosen Shintarou up, and it seems to be working to an extent. He's relaxing into Atsushi's arms, leaning back a bit, and the knots are getting smaller. After a few minutes, they've both had enough, and Shintarou flicks off the light and crawls under the covers. Atsushi joins him almost immediately. His last thought before sleep claim him is optimistic, a hope that tomorrow they will be able to spend more time together.


End file.
